Oh So Close..

The sneer is gone from Barrick’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
he pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the Bankster holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
and now the air is shattered by the force of Barrick’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
and somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
but there is no joy in Goldtent — mighty Barrick has struck out.